One Early, One Late
by HecateA
Summary: Never in the history of their friendship has Harry managed to convince Hermione to do something she didn't want to do. He's not sure that trend is going to stop now that she's in labour. Oneshot.


**Author's note: **Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Hogwarts: **Assignment #1, Dentistry #2 Write about ignoring good advice.

**Warnings: **Pregnancy and labour

* * *

**One Early, One Late **

The timing, frankly, was nothing short of unfortunate. Harry had been watching Hermione like a hawk ever since that morning, when he'd noticed her bent over the kitchen sink with her eyes shut in either pain or concentration.

He hadn't been sure which one it had been at the time, though he had a sneaking suspicion he'd hoped was wrong. But now he found herself holding her arm and propping her up as what could only be a contraction seized her muscles and nerves...

"Hey," Harry began cautiously. "Hermione?"

"We don't have to talk about it," Hermione said.

"I mean, maybe we should," Harry said. "You know that…"

"Of course I know," she said. She took a deep breath. "I know I'm in labour, I've been having contractions since sunrise."

If Harry hadn't known what was good for him, he would have mentioned how funny that was considering he'd been asking all sorts of leading questions like 'is the baby kicking a lot today?' or 'how are you feeling?' only to receive the most generic of answers.

That was neither here nor there, though.

"Alright," Harry said, looking at the watch on his wrist. "How far apart are they?"

"I'm fine," she said in a measured voice. "I don't need to start counting quite yet."

This was the most un-Hermione Granger-like thing she had ever said to him. Though he tried not to judge while he processed this sudden disregard for hard facts, numbers, and data, his face betrayed him.

"I'm fine," Hermione promised him again. "This happens. This is normal. These might not even be real contractions."

Her due date was two weeks away, something Harry knew because he was eager to meet his future godchild _and _because Ron had repeated the date to him, scared out of his mind, for weeks now. But this definitely didn't seem like false labour to him—not that he was an expert by any mean.

"O...kay," Harry said. "Just in case, let me keep an eye on my watch until another one comes around and…"

"Harry," Hermione said again, straightening up and shaking her arm out of his grip. "I am _fine. _Now move, you're blocking the kettle; I want to make tea."

"I'll do it," Harry offered. There was a small clock above the stove, he could keep an eye on it. When Ginny had been pregnant, the rule had been that a Healer should be involved and they should head to St. Mungo's when the contractions were five to seven minutes apart.

Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"Hey, come on, let me help…" Harry said. "I promised Ron that I'd stay with you and help you out while he was away."

"Both of you are such fretters," Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Don't you have your own pregnant wife to take care of?"

"Yes, but she's far less pregnant than you," Harry pointed out.

Hermione did cease and desist and go take a seat at the kitchen table. Harry filled the kettle with water and then set it on the stovetop, eyeing the clock the whole time. Once they passed 8 minutes without another sign of a contraction, he went to join Hermione at the kitchen table.

"What did you want to do today?" Hermione asked him.

"I think you should set the pace," Harry said.

"Do you want me to help you study for that exam on poisons?" Hermione asked.

"Not that," Harry said immediately, making her laugh. "We can get through the pile of movies we rented if we really put our minds to it, I think."

That was good; something quiet and relaxed. Plus, if they were lounging on the couch, he could keep an eye on her.

"Mmm-hmm," Hermione said. Then she got up again. "Part of me wants to _do _something. Did we finish hanging all the baby clothes yesterday, after doing laundry?"

"Yes," Harry said.

"Right," Hermione said. She chewed her lip. "Did I put things away by colour or..?"

"You did it by size and weather appropriateness," Harry said.

"Right," Hermione said. "Maybe it'd be cuter by colour; it would match the blanket in the crib…"

"You said that yesterday, but then you said that it would be impractical," Harry reminded her.

"It would be," Hermione agreed. She fidgeted with her wedding ring—she hated jewelry but made the effort to wear her ring on her finger or on a chain around her neck for Ron. She'd been wearing it for the last three days consecutively, as far as Harry could tell.

"Let me go double check that the books are in alphabetical order," Hermione said, nodding to herself resolutely.

"Didn't you want tea?" Harry said.

"Maybe later," Hermione said, a hand on her belly bump as she pushed herself back up from her seat.

"Do you want help with the stairs?" Harry asked.

"I'm fine—you have a cup of tea," Hermione said. "And pick a movie we can watch later, I just want to get this done first…"

Obviously, Harry gave her a second's head start before sneakily following her and peeking around the corner, keeping an eye on her as she climbed the stairs slowly and carefully. She paused when she reached the top safe and sound before turning to the right, down the hall towards the bedrooms.

Harry mentally tallied his options.

Ron had been meant to be home yesterday. He was undercover with Dedalus Diggle, following around a black market that dealt in poached magical creatures—a straightforward job he'd picked up to secure an extra week of paternity leave once the baby came. Harry was starting to worry that that was getting dangerously close. Missing Ron aside, it worried Harry that Hermione was being so… calm about this. It was as if she didn't really believe that the baby was coming or didn't see a reason to check in. If they waited too long, it wouldn't be safe to Apparate or take the Floo to the hospital, and since his best friends had decided to live in a village an hour outside Muggle London…

He heard something fall upstairs as he pondered, and bolted up the stairs. He found Hermione in the nursery, a Robin's egg blue room with framed pictures from Muggle and Wizarding children's books hanging on the walls. His eyes barely registered the sketches from _The Tale of the Three Brothers _and _Rainbow Fish _to focus on Hermione, who was bracing herself on the changing table with one hand and clutching her lower back with the other. A pile of dropped books was sprawled at her feet.

Her eyes were shut and she looked frozen in place, until she made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a whimper and her body relaxed some. Not much, granted, but some.

"Hermione…" Harry said, coming towards her. He waved his wand and the books stacked themselves on top of a wardrobe with bright pink handles.

"Okay," she said to herself quietly, eyes still closed. "Okay, okay, okay…"

He ran a hand up and down her arm, trying to be soothing.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry said. The question felt silly to him, since this definitely did not seem okay to him, but he was well aware that he had no uterus and therefore no opinion on the subject. Just a lot of anxiety as he scrambled to take care of one of his best friends and do his other best friend right, at the moment.

"Yes," she said, eyes still shut.

"Hermione," he said again, trying to keep his voice level even if he himself was getting worried. "Hermione, you're in labour—this is real."

"It's fine," Hermione said. "They're still considered minor contractions if I can talk through them."

"Hermione, you couldn't talk through it," Harry said. "You could barely stand up. That looked very real and not small. I think your little girl's coming, and it's your first baby so it's really important that you don't do this alone. It may be time to go to St. Mungo's now."

"No," Hermione insisted. "No, we're not going."

"We're going to have to go eventually," Harry said. "Hermione, hey, even if we get there a little bit early, that's fine…"

"No, _we're _not going," Hermione said. "_I'm_ going, yes, to have a baby—but you're not coming because Ron's coming with me because I'm not doing this without Ron since I don't think I can and I don't want to."

When she said it, she took a deep breath. Her voice was shaky when she spoke next.

"Where is he?" Hermione said. "Where is he, he said that this job was straightforward, he said he wouldn't take it if it wasn't straightforward, and you read the mission brief and you said it would be fine…"

"I don't know," Harry said. "I don't know, Hermione, but the Auror Department would have contacted you if they had a reason to worry. Sometimes timelines are off, that's all."

Hermione gave him a look. This was not useful information no matter how technically right it may be. Harry ran a hand through her hair.

"I remember when Ginny had James, I was scared out of my mind and I wasn't even, you know, doing all that much by that point," Harry said.

The look she gave him suggested that this was even less helpful.

"And I remember wondering how we were ever going to get through this, but she was sturdy as a rock," Harry said. "She was strong and she was able and she was fierce. She had James, safe and sound. She did it—and you can do it too. You're _that_ strong, Hermione. Okay? And it would be great for Ron to be there, and he can't be far off, but you can do this first part and go to St. Mungo's on your own. Not on your own, with me. I've got you. Okay?"

"Okay," Hermione said. She took a deep breath and winced as another contraction took over.

This time she held onto Harry instead of clutching the furniture, and when he felt her steady he ran his hand down her hair.

"Okay," Hermione said. "Okay, I have to go."

"You have to go."

"We have to go."

"We'll go," Harry promised. "Ron told me you had a bag packed, just in case."

"It's by the front door," Hermione said.

"Do you need anything else?"

"I have, umm, I should throw in a toothbrush," Hermione said. "And my book's on my nightstand—and Ron left a sweater on his side of the bed, I want to bring it…"

"Okay," Harry said. "I can grab all of that. Do you want to sit while I go?"

"Yes," Hermione said, a little breathlessly.

He helped her settle down in the rocking chair in the corner of the nursery and kissed the top of her head before popping out of the room.

While he was gathering the last few things, he took advantage of the few seconds he had away from Hermione to send a Patronus to Ginny, filling her in, and another to Head Auror Hestia Jones. If she had Ron doing paperwork in her office, she needed to let him go _immediately, _and if she didn't she had to find him.

* * *

They were nine hours in, and Hermione was leaning against Harry, one hand's fingernails digging into his knee and the other squeezing one of his. Her braids were gathered at the top of her head, out of the way, and she was covered in a fine layer of sweat. When what may have been the biggest contraction yet ended, she fell back against Harry.

"You're doing great," he promised. "You're doing so great…"

"I don't want to do this anymore," Hermione breathed.

"Sorry honey," the Healer chimed in. "Labour is like a boulder; you can't stop it once it gets moving."

"I don't want to keep doing it without him," Hermione amended.

The Healer gave Hermione a smile and offered a cheerful platitude before excusing herself from the room.

"Harry…" Hermione said.

"I haven't heard anything back yet," Harry said. "But that—that doesn't mean anything, Hermione."

"The other Healer said I'd start pushing in the next hour," Hermione said, looking at the Healer who was with her. "We're running out of time and I'm not doing it without him."

"That's… I don't think you get to pick that," Harry said.

Then again, Hermione scared him out of his mind. Maybe she _could_. Or maybe she would try and it would just be stress she and the baby didn't need. What did Harry know about these things?

"Is it okay if I step out?" Harry said. "I'll… I don't know, I'll call Hestia, I'm sure there's a fire I can use somewhere. I'll get news for you."

"I don't want news I want him," Hermione said.

"I know," Harry said, gently extracting himself from her hospital bed and helping her lay back down on the pillows. "I know, we'll see… are you sure you don't want me to call your parents?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "It was Ron's job to call them when labour started. He'll do it when he gets here—because he _will. _He's Ron. He always turns up when you need him."

"He does," Harry said. "But Hermione…"

"I do need him," she interrupted him, guessing at his words in advance, enabled by their twenty-some years of friendship. "He's the father of my daughter and he's my person—I chose him and I want him here."

"I know," Harry said. "I know. We'll…"

There was the sound of running in the hall, and Harry turned just in time to see a lanky, red-haired blur nearly wipe out a Mediwitch in the doorframe.

"Sorry," Ron panted, though he barely looked at the witch a second longer before turning to Hermione. He had his wand in hand and he was wearing robes that Harry recognized from the department's closet of clothes to be borrowed for mission work. "Oh, Merlin, Hermione…"

"You did it," Hermione breathed. At that moment she squeezed her eyes shut and arched in her bed as another contraction seized her, a low moan pouring from her lips to move along with the pain. Her hand reached out and grabbed Harry's, but Ron was on the other side of her bed and offering his hand a second later.

"That was a good one, love," the Healer said. "We'll start pushing so, so soon you're doing wonderful…"

"You're doing wonderfully," Ron echoed. Hermione turned her head to face him.

"I told them you'd be here," Hermione said.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Ron said. "I got in twenty minutes ago, Hestia sent me here right away, I…"

"You still have dirt on your nose," Hermione said, reaching up to touch his face.

"I know," Ron said. "Sorry. I guess our little girl's going to meet me the same way you did."

Hermione smiled and laughed though the chuckles turned to stressed, exhausted sobs.

"I was afraid you wouldn't make it," she said.

"Me too," Ron said. "Me too, I'm so sorry."

"I really thought we had another two weeks," Hermione said. "I'm not ready."

"Me neither." Ron admitted with that blurted candor of his. "But you know what? I think you're having a baby right now."

"Yeah," Hermione said. "Harry's been saying that…"

Ron looked up to him, eyes wide and thankful and still a little panicky. He kissed Hermione's forehead.

Harry squeezed her hand.

"I'll go wait outside," he said. "Ron's got you, now, and you've got this."

"Thanks for being my person until then," Hermione said.

"I'm always your person," Harry promised.

* * *

**Stacked with: **MC4A; Hogwarts

**Individual Challenge(s): **Gryffindor MC (x3); Trio of Gold (Y); Seeds; Baby Mine; Brush; Times to Come; Old Shoes; Themes & Things A (Friendship); Themes & Things B (Reunion); Themes & Things C (Pillow); Themes & Things D (Sweater/Jumper); Themes & Things E (Chair); Themes & Things F (Courage); Ethnic & Present; Rian-Russo Inversion; In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux

**Word Count: **2607


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